Gooney Bird and All Her Charms by Lois Lowry Page B

cry again, quietly. She wiped her nose on the sleeve of her jacket.
    â€œMy blue hat is gone too!” Nicholas wailed.
    After a moment Gooney Bird climbed to the top of the steps and looked down to where all the dismayed second-graders were standing.
    â€œEveryone!” she called out. “We have a crime to solve, and if it’s okay with you, I’m going to appoint myself head detective, because Napoleon belongs to my Uncle Walter and I’m sort of responsible for him.”
    â€œYeah, you might have to pay for him!” Barry said.
    â€œI bet he cost about a thousand dollars!” Chelsea added.
    â€œWe could have a bake sale,” Malcolm suggested.
    â€œChildren, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Mrs. Pidgeon said. “Let’s concentrate on finding Napoleon. Does everyone agree that Gooney Bird should be head detective? We’ll vote. All in favor, say
aye
.”
    â€œAYE!” the second-graders shouted.
    â€œThank you.” Gooney Bird adjusted her hat. Today she was wearing a jester’s cap with bells on it. “I’m kind of sorry I’m wearing my jester’s cap today, because there isn’t anything funny about this situation. If I’d known we would have a mystery to solve, I would have worn my Sherlock Holmes hat.
    â€œBut,” she added, “that’s the thing about mysteries. They take you by surprise.”
    â€œA bad surprise,” Malcolm said in a gloomy voice.
    â€œYes,” Gooney Bird agreed. “This is a bad surprise. But we’re going to investigate in an orderly way. First we’re going to check on the obvious suspect. Barry?”
    â€œMe?”
Barry said. “Why am I a suspect?”
    â€œNo, no, you’re not. I’m sorry. I meant that I was appointing you to a task,” Gooney Bird said. “I want you to go into the school and find Mr. Furillo.”
    â€œMr. Furillo? Is
he
the suspect?” Mrs. Pidgeon asked. “Why on earth—?”
    â€œNot him. His dog. Bruno. Barry, I want you to check on Bruno’s whereabouts. Where was he when the crime was committed?”
    Keiko sniffled and wiped her nose again. “Why is Bruno a suspect?” she whimpered. “We all
love
Bruno!”
    â€œWell,” Gooney Bird said in a serious voice. “Bruno is a . . . what?”
    â€œDog,” the children all replied.
    â€œAnd we all know that Bruno is always hungry, correct?”
    â€œCorrect!” the children replied.
    â€œAnd dogs like to eat—what?”
    There was a silence. “Dog food?” Malcolm suggested in a hesitant voice.
    But the children shook their heads. They knew what Gooney Bird meant.
“Bones,”
they said.
    â€œAnd even though Mr. Furillo said that Bruno wouldn’t be at all interested in Napoleon, still, Napoleon is . . . what?”
    â€œBones.” The voices were very somber.
    Mrs. Pidgeon cleared her throat. “Oh, dear,” she said. “Maybe Bruno found that, ah, humerus.”
    Everyone was silent.
    â€œSorry,” Mrs. Pidgeon murmured apologetically.
    Then Barry said loudly, “Okay. I’m on the case. I’ll find Mr. Furillo.” He dashed up the steps and entered the school building.
    â€œWhile Barry’s gone,” Gooney Bird announced, “we must all be looking carefully for clues. I’m sorry we don’t have magnifying glasses. But search carefully.”
    All of the children looked at the ground. Ben poked a twig with his toe.
    â€œNo, no,” said the head detective. “Spread out. We must search the steps and the walk and the playground.”
    â€œIs it okay, Mrs. Pidgeon?” Beanie asked. “It’s not recess time.”
    Mrs. Pidgeon nodded. She looked at her watch. “It’s actually spelling time. But for now this is more important. Start searching for clues.”
    The children began to wander the playground with their